


Look what I have

by letosatie



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern with Magic, F/F, First Time, Magic-Users, Meet-Cute, Sex Magic, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-22
Updated: 2017-12-22
Packaged: 2019-02-18 08:28:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13096281
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letosatie/pseuds/letosatie
Summary: Éponine goes hunting for the witch who cast a love spell on Marius -- and finds an angel instead.





	Look what I have

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hyenateeth](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyenateeth/gifts).



> Dear hyenateeth, I wanted to do almost every prompt you gave. They were all amazing, but this was the one that just demanded I type it out. I have absolutely not managed to do this prompt justice, sorry for that. I hope you have happy holidays and enjoy whatever weather you've got there. Here is a kiss, if you like that sort of thing, no mistletoe required. **:-***
> 
>  
> 
> <3<3<3

If Éponine had been R’s familiar, a cat called Kanny --which, really R?-- her ears would have pricked up. As it was her spine stiffened and her head snapped around at the smell of Red Chestnut accompanying Marius as he approached their usual tables in the front window of the Musain. There was a cloud of something heavier than scent wafting off him… an invisible cloak with tentacles and it was intense.

Ép leaned into Marius’ chest and took a decent sniff. She registered a tangle of aromatic herbs and the acrid ashy smell of magic having been sparked before she registered Marius looking down at her with a mildly puzzled wrinkle on his brow.

“Hi Éponine,” he said. It was a question.

Éponine grinned through her familiar anger at being thought odd. She was long past the shameful reactions of her youth, when her differences made her heavy and sullen. Nowadays she tended to think,”How dare you, white man!” and found using righteousness as a shield was a completely understandable metaphor. Remembering that even that puppy dog Marius deserved the middle finger sometimes gave her the moxy to barrel ahead. “What happened to you?” she asked, pretending to push glasses up her nose in a cheap imitation of Ferre at his most inquisitive.

“You can tell?” he said, delighted, which made the mystery all the more muddy.

Then Marius started on a warbling tale of an angel with hair like a vampire’s cape and eyes like the sun filtering through a forest canopy and oh my God who the hell taught Marius seven different languages when he just found a way to be a dork in all of them.

By now Jehan had made their way over and was conducting their own sniff test. They strolled around Marius, and said, “Magic,” and twirled one finger in the air as if they could physically tug at the spell clinging to Marius.

Who knew with Jehan. Maybe they could.

“Yes,” said Marius, eyes burning. “Yes! She is magic.”

“That’s quite likely,” Jehan murmured, waggling their eyebrows at Éponine.

“Love spell?” wondered Ép beneath her breath, “but why Red Chestnut?” Éponine had her hands gripped tight around the throat of this mystery.

Jehan shrugged, content to let the answers come as they may. “Don’t know. Can’t wait to meet this witch though.” They smiled. It wasn’t necessarily friendly.

It was so foreign to Éponine, the way Jehan dealt with life, confident in their ability to weather a storm and rebuild or fight back and enact revenge. Ép came from a family where directness and reactiveness were examples of sloppy behaviour, ways to show one’s hand and ultimately get hurt. She would not wait to see how things unfolded. She could not let things progress without her knowledge. But she couldn’t get help from Marius’ friends either, even though both R and Jehan were scarily competent witches, because they all knew she’d had a crush on Marius for years. It was going to look like the sourest of grapes.

Nevermind. Ép knew a someone who was masterful at scrying, and could find anything or anyone. Ép was related to this master, and could probably bribe him with pizza. 

Technically, Gavroche still lived with Éponine’s parents, which in practical terms meant he came and went from the old boarding house at his own timetable just like all the Thenardier’s ‘business’ associates. He was still passing near the top of his class at l’école -- Éponine suspected R and Feuilly were tutoring him, but he could have simply been a lucky bastard -- so Éponine hadn’t felt the need to interfere just yet. Éponine had flunked out young as soon as it was too dangerous to stay at home anymore. Gav had a brain though; he was somehow avoiding the wrong sort of attention from the adults in the boarding house.

And he was always on Éponine’s side.

Ép sat through the rest of her black coffee, more of Marius’ grating descriptions, another hour of R pulling Enjolras’ pigtails before she felt it was safe to make her leave without being too obvious. 

She waited for Gav outside the school, tucking her coat around herself as tightly as she could. He came happily, with his grey beanie pulled down low. It wasn’t low enough that Éponine didn’t notice Gav’s hair had been cut. It had gotten long enough, the curls had been peeking out from under that hat, long enough to be obviously blond in a family of brunettes. Mrs Thenardier shaved it close to his skull whenever she could. 

“Hey,” said Gavroche, “What are we up to?”

“I need to find someone,” Ép said. “Need you and your crazy skills, little bro.”

“Cool,” said Gavroche. “Can we do it at R’s? He was going to help me with my comic for French.”

Ép sighed. “No, we can’t. We can’t tell him about this one.”

Gav looked at her like a little kingfisher, curious and intense. After a while he nodded, and Ép had never been so grateful for his perceptive skills. They went to her tiny attic apartment and pulled up Google maps on Ép’s wheezing old tablet. Gavroche unlooped a piece of string from around his neck. It was in turn looped through a small crystal which Gav held out over the tablet. 

Gav had natural talent, particularly with this part of magic. Jehan was pretty good at intuiting things and making things happen. R was basically a human library of magical lore. Éponine was less a well of natural talent and more an example of dedicated scientific practise. She still got decent results, but it wasn’t as slick. She couldn’t do _this_ , this quick and confident discovery. Sure she knew the theory: anchor the subject, ask the crystal the right questions, patiently zero in on the map zooming in closer and closer on each pass. Ép could do it and it took three times as long and the crystal just eventually stopped at a part of the map. When Gav’s crystal stopped, he stiffened and Ép knew he was getting a vision to cement the location.

He looked up at her, his eyes slow to focus. “Found them,” he said, a smirk curling into his baby-fat cheek. “Can I come too?” His voice sounded petulant but his gaze was assessing. He was a bit of a guard pup sometimes, her brother, and Ép thought it was better to let him try for whatever heights he thought he could reach, be it Université or protecting his big sister from the rough edges of the world. Who was Éponine to say if Gav was capable or not? So she said, “Please,” and they put on coats and went out. 

It wasn’t cold enough to snow but the breeze was biting. It took them seven stops and a transfer to get to the location Gav’s crystal had indicated on the map.

“I think this is it,” Gav said outside an ivy covered rock wall. “I need to climb and check.”

“Ok,” said Ép and she peered through the head high wrought iron gate. Gav’s trainers had already disappeared into the branch cover of an evergreen.

In summer the garden would be well shaded, but currently only three of the trees ringing the space still had leaves. The others scraped bone coloured branches against each other, moaning warnings. There was a conservatory, which led into the house, on the South side of the rectangular garden, and a bench seat next to the stone wall to the North. It was very neat, although sadly bare in the grey winter light.

There was a soft dove call with an odd trill at the end, Gav’s confirmation, so Éponine snaked her hand through the bars on the gate and pulled the heavy bell. The clanging sound of it rang in her jaw.

And then silently from the conservatory came Marius’ angel. Something grazed along the inside of Éponine’s stomach like she’d swallowed something that refused to go down. Her whole body woke up at the sight of the woman walking towards her.

Jehan was always talking about how witches should keep their eyes open for premonitions. R was always saying he had no interest in confirming how dire his future was likely to be; Éponine had always just been really bad at predictions. She thought R probably had too little hope, while Éponine was too busy surviving her present, for either of them to focus ahead. This reaction though, this frisson, this was more akin to the future smacking her on the back of the head and yelling, “Take note, dumbass!”

Éponine punched her leg angrily. She knew her plans had instantly changed from ‘yell until the witch saw the evil of her ways’, to ‘bargain until the angel agreed to tell Marius about the spell and start their relationship on honest groundwork’. 

The whole thing made her angry. Once again being second, putting what was good for Marius first. Doing the right thing and still coming second. And yes, Marius was a dork, but he was her lovely dork with his soft eyes and his generous heart and his unwavering hope. Except he wasn’t hers and never had been. It made her furious that she couldn’t take something for herself, but that anger wasn't going to change her course of action.

The gravel of the garden path crunched under approaching footfall. Damn, this woman’s eyes were big and gorgeous, so dark, intriguing like secrets. They seemed to grow even wider when they lit upon Éponine. 

“Hello,” she said, unlatching the gate, her voice warm and trembling. “You’re early. I’m Cosette.”

Ép felt her stomach tug again, this time with anticipation of a puzzle to solve. She shook her head, “What do you mean early?”

Cosette stepped in, uncomfortably close, and looked up at Éponine. That in itself was startling because Ép was used to looking up at people, was almost having to look up at Gav, and Cosette had appeared a giantess striding to the gate, certainly Éponine’s body had been on high alert and couldn’t have ignored Cosette for all the gold in the Banque de France.

Cosette smiled, a crooked mystery of a thing. Her lips were very plump and Ép was so confused now, not only did the words being said make no sense but all of Ép’s emotions made no sense either. Ép wanted to smile back. It was very odd.

“You’re early,” said Cosette, “I wasn’t expecting to see you for years.” She rubbed her ear and blushed a little, still smiling, only rueful now. “I must’ve got something a bit wrong”

“You’re not making sense. And you’ve got something very wrong,” Éponine told her, “Trapping Marius with a love spell. He doesn’t even know your name.”

“I did not!” Cosette was no longer smiling. She grabbed Ép and pulled her into the garden. “I was doing the Autonomy spell so Marius would grow a spine and stop spouting other people’s opinions and have a thought of his own.”

Ép spluttered, geared up to yell but suddenly out of fuel. It was true Marius did seem to just copy Courf, Enjolras and all the Pontmercys. Ép sometimes thought even she had too much influence over Marius, like he was too kind. It was clever actually, under the autonomy magic Marius would still be kind if it was his impulse and not a sense of compulsion or duty. There was a peel of irreverent laughter from the tree tops and Gav dropped to the ground. He landed crouched on one knee like Spiderman and stared at them intensely. 

“Poseur,” said Ép, cuttingly.

Gav grinned. “Says the tough girl biting her lip and her tongue,” he retorted.

It was Éponine’s turn to blush.

“So I cast the spell wrong?” Cosette said. There was a v-shaped furrowed into her forehead.

“Yeah, he’s smitten, I came to tell you off or at least get you to fess up to him so you could start your relationship properly. Give it a real chance.”

“I’m not… I’m not meant to have a relationship with Marius…” She broke off. She looked smaller. She looked up at Éponine like she was falling, like she was reaching out.

And Éponine, she wanted to catch this girl. When most of her life was about not getting caught.

She heard herself say, “We can fix it.” When Cosette smiled at her, Éponine really believed they could.

 

<3<3<3

 

They went to Jehan, obviously, because it was hard to cast a successful spell but it was near impossible to alter magic already existing and Jehan was so _good_ it was like magic -- no really, the dork had that written on his business cards. They dropped Gav off to R on the way.

Cosette shook Jehan’s hand at the door to his loft and then slipped off shoes more expensive than Éponine’s monthly grocery bill. Her toenails were blue and glittery. 

Jehan brewed them some tea and they settled on some cushions in the weak sunlight. Cosette didn’t falter while explaining what she’d done, but Éponine could tell she was ashamed and frustrated. And while Cosette was carefully choosing her language so as not to make excuses, she did say pleadingly, “I’ve never met another witch. I’ve been working from texts my mother left me when she died. I know the theory but nothing else.”

Jehan smiled and told her, “You have at least a little spark inside you, Cosette. The Autonomy spell wouldn’t work for someone just doing science.” Éponine rolled her eyes. Cosette shot her a confused glance and Jehan whispered conspiratorially, “Éponine thinks she has no inherent magic and is merely a capable scientist. There is too much sticky past in her to let her magic flow freely yet.” 

“Whereas Jehan is all ‘feelings’ and no precision,” Éponine shot back.

Jehan laughed at her. “I think you’re describing R actually,” they said, “that’s me and Ép’s other magic friend. He’s… chaotic.”

Cosette sipped her tea, her jaw shifting as she swallowed and Éponine thought, damn, I bet that tastes good, and she didn’t even drink tea.

“Wait a minute,” Éponine burst out.

Jehan stopped outlining their ideas and looked at her amused. Cosette turned to regard her curiously. It was sharply similar to an expression Gavroche often leveled at her. Was it just people shorter than Ép that looked at her like that? Like they were looking up to her?

Ép sucked a sharp breath through her nose and shook her head. “Did you cast on me?” she accused Cosette. Her voice had gotten embarrassingly squeaky.

“No,” Cosette’s denial was half whine, half hurricane. “How could I have? We’ve been together the whole time.”

“What do you think Cosette cast, Éponine?” Jehan queried in that annoying way they had, like they already knew all the answers.

“Love spell,” Ép muttered, finding it very hard to look either of them full in the face. She could see them anyway. Cosette was beaming so brightly it was painful. 

Jehan smirked. “Feeling some attraction for our fellow witch Ép?” Éponine was ashy red now, embarrassment and regret roaring in her ears.

“It’s because we’re meant to be,” said Cosette, shining like the sparkles on her toenails.

“Meant to be what?” Éponine said dumbly.

“Together forever,” said Cosette. “Girlfriends. You’re the love of my life.”

Ép stared at her unmoving.

Jehan had their hands clasped together looking like they couldn’t decide whether to cackle in evil glee or coo.

“I scryed over the tarot,” Cosette said, starting to lose her cool. “and I pulled the two of cups and the high priestess and the lovers. And I saw you.”

Éponine croaked, “Me?”

“Yes. It was really strong, like I saw you so clearly, and I was so excited. I couldn’t believe I got to be with someone so gorgeous. But it felt _right_. The texts I’ve read say we need to listen to our intuition and premonition by taking signs from our bodies reactions, and when I saw you… in the vision I mean, I felt safe.”

“Well, maybe you got that magic mixed up too because I’m not safe or gorgeous.” The words snapped out of Éponine, a steel trap. Jehan and Cosette both opened their mouths to speak but Éponine said, firmly, “We got distracted. Let’s tweak Marius.”

Cosette flipped open the book she’d brought, and Ép had to grit her jaw against the way Cosette had crumpled, body curled, while she smoothed a page with deliberate focus. Her voice was steady but quiet when she told Éponine, “This is what I used.”

Éponine read it out loud, it was better than thinking about how Ép had caused Cosette’s sudden rawness and how different it was to causing her parent’s disgust. “I knew I smelt Red Chestnut,” she mumbled.

“The alteration shouldn’t be too difficult,” Jehan said.

“But..?” prompted Ép.

Jehan tapped their lip with a purple polished fingernail. “It will take a huge amount of energy to reroute this thing. Where are we going to get the energy?”

A puzzled silence settled in Jehan’s loft. Cosette sipped her tea. Jehan’s chameleon knocked a log in his terrarium over.

Ép’s brain flicked through possibilities like an old fashioned projector… sacrifice, ley lines, covens, shades, sex magic, sex magic, sex magic. “What about sex magic,” she said, despite a confusing clash of intuition and panic gripping her lungs. “Surely Courf would happily get off for Marius’ sake.”

Jehan mused, “I don’t think non-magic persons will do the trick in this case. The sex will generate the amount of energy but only practising witches could focus it effectively.” They smiled smugly. “Besides, Marius is really, really smitten so I think we need to find two witches with enough spark to pull this off.”

Ép rolled her eyes, “Hey Prouvaire, wanna fuck?”

They looked at her flatly for a moment then Jehan and Éponine cracked up.

“That’s funny?” Cosette asked, lost.

“Yeah,” said Ép, still so amused she forgot not to smile at Cosette and jumped a little when she got a brilliant smile back. “Jehan’s not attracted to female humans.”

“No, that’s not quite correct,” Jehan informed them. “It’s actually femme humans I’m not attracted to, and those who prefer to bottom. I had sex with a really butch girl who liked to top once and it was mind bending. Possibly, time and space bending.”

Jehan’s face played reflections of pleasant reminisces. Cosette was nodding with a polite smile pasted on her face. 

“Anyway, Montparnasse would be happy to fuck with me for any reason, let alone ritual magic, but he’s non-magic and as I said, pretty sure it needs to be at least two magic folk. Why don’t you two perform the sex ritual?” Jehan suggested, with way too much disinterest to be authentically nonchalant.

Ép’s face was probably going to be constantly dark red now. She’d have to find a new foundation tone to make her perpetual humiliation pretty enough for public consumption. “Wouldn’t there be consent issues since Cosette believes we are destined and might not think she can say no?” said Éponine, her voice gruff and undeniably desperate.

“Éponine,” said Cosette sharply, and Ép realised it was the first time Cosette had said her name. “I know I can say no. But I do not want to say no. I want to,” her voice dropped into breathless huffs, “god I really want to. Whether we are casting a spell or not. You’re so… and i really want to… and it’s so hard not to reach out and grab…”

The nonsensical syntax wasn’t endearing but the force of how much Cosette clearly desired Éponine was Godzilla smashing down Ép’s doubt highways and reason citadels and really Ép just wanted to put her palms on those round cheeks and see if that collarbone tasted any different than Cosette’s navel. It was possibly the first time Éponine had ever wanted to be the person someone expected her to be.

“Okay yes,” Ép interrupted, racing against the chance she’d change her mind. “Cosette, you strange creature, let’s give each other orgasms for science.”

 

<3<3<3

 

At first, it did seem very scientific. Éponine snapped at Cosette about the positioning of the the charcoal burners inside the salt circle, and argued with Jehan about the timing of which to light first. The herbal smell of the ritual oils they were using to draw runes on each other was incredibly pervasive, as was the bracing scent of the coffee beans they were grinding, because there was nothing like burnt coffee grounds to clear out and start fresh. While she trusted Jehan, and the power they had that Éponine didn’t understand, this sciency part of magic was the part Ép did well. It was settling though, familiar, having Jehan pratting around. It helped Éponine to focus on the spell and not on the very cute girl she was going to have to -- get to -- touch soon.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Jehan said, when the last herbs were burning. They rubbed their hands together like a pervert, left the loft, and then Ép was left staring at Cosette having honestly forgotten how to kiss, or fuck, or breathe.

“Are you sure?” Cosette asked, sweetly, seriously.

“I want something for me,” Ép said quietly.

Cosette rolled her eyes. “This is a ritual to help your friend and a virtual stranger.” Her voice was desert dry.

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t. Tell me.”

Éponine sighed, a frustrated, embarrassed puff. “I want to touch you. I’ve been given an opportunity to do that and I’m going to take it.”

Cosette laughed. She did it a lot and each laugh was different. Ép thought distantly about tracking each of them and making a spreadsheet with the results of her investigation. Cosette leaned forward. The dip of her chin was coy but her movements were steady.

“I want any opportunity to be with you,” Cosette confessed. “I’ve been given one and I’m taking it even if you ignore me tomorrow. Fixing my mistake is important, but… it’s secondary.”

Ép sat down on the ground. It wasn’t graceful. “I’ve never come first.”

Cosette knelt in front of her. “You’re first for me, Éponine.” 

Ép rubbed her eyes hard and tired giggles shook out of her. Cosette grinned. Ép grinned back and it felt mad. Cosette climbed into her lap wrapping her plump arms around Ép’s neck. Ép felt like Diana Prince, capable and conquering.

If she could actually be brave enough to kiss Cosette this magic was going to be incredibly powerful.

Objectively Ép knew what to do with a girl, especially one that was sitting in her lap, but Cosette was making her feel like a rookie, fresh off the tree. Ép wondered if she was squeezing too hard, if her kisses were too rough, if Cosette would be put off by the little tummy pouch Ép had developed since she stopped playing volleyball. Cosette’s eyes were very big, very Disney. She looked as if cartoon birds dressed her in the morning. But she was the prince in reality, the one brave enough to move forward, vanquish the space keeping them apart. Cosette was the action hero and Éponine, for the first time, was the hard won reward.

God, this girl… she had her hand strumming up Ép’s neck and Ép could feel it in her spine. Her lips were moving slow but the sensations they produced were frantic. It was like a river, smooth surface with a deadly current underneath. Ép couldn’t distinguish if Cosette’s lips were soft, or how they tasted, or anything but the way they were making her feel. It was like lying on the floor by a window in the golden afternoon sun, like all of life was accessible to grab and patiently waiting while Éponine napped. 

Then Cosette made an adorable squeak and Ép hugged her tightly in response and started to kiss her while drawing Cosette in closer, as if she could eat her nibble by nibble. And Cosette rolled her tiny body in a ripple so it pressed against Ép’s and pinched Ép’s hips between her thighs. So Ép thought she’d better squeeze those thighs back and then Cosette’s bum and Cosette said, “Éponine” with so much want and reverence that Éponine remembered she was a kickass witch. 

“I want to get on top of you,” Ép said and shifted Cosette onto the floor. 

But just as quickly she changed her mind. “Oh no, you shouldn’t be on the floor!” Éponine sat back appalled. 

“Oh my god get down here now you utter dork, if i wanted to rub myself on air I could have stayed at home and flicked the bean.” said Cosette, and she looked so much like an angry kitten, a laugh came out of Éponine as convulsively as if she had spat it.

Cosette laughed too and she laughed against Éponine’s mouth when she kissed her and she laughed as Éponine tickled her ribs with gentle bites and she laughed when Éponine got briefly, frustratingly stuck in her singlet while trying to get naked. Until suddenly she wasn’t and suddenly she was throwing her head back and moaning and clutching Éponine’s arm. Ép was bracing herself over Cosette, moving on her with a cadence of slow-motion super-8 film. She fully intended to stop rubbing her leg between Cosette’s, to step up her game so she wasn’t just being Cosette’s glorified wank-toy, only Cosette _whined_ and was suddenly frantic and pink and panting and squirming and coming.

Éponine said “Oh my Lord,” and kissed her before shuffling down to lap at Cosette’s inner thighs. It was a mine of treasures along that sweet stretch of skin: the softness, the galvanic smell and the sharp taste of her. Cosette said, breathlessly, “What about you?” but Éponine blurted, “Shit, oh oh shit,” one hand pressing Cosette’s thigh out and to the floor and the other working herself over fast, her rhythm shattered. 

She was rocking over Cosette and mouthing sloppily at her collarbone, and it was probably ugly, but Cosette just put one tiny hand on the back of Éponine’s neck and croaked, “uh, God yes, you...” and then Ép ignited 

and so did the spell. 

When Éponine opened her eyes after taking a few moments to get her breath back, Cosette was playing with her hair and memorising her features. Her lips curved in a fond smile, and Ép was sure Cosette didn’t even know she was smiling.

“What?” said Éponine, because no-one ever claimed she was a poet.

Cosette sighed. “You’re perfect,” she said, and shuffled closer. Éponine thought it might be a very good idea to kiss her again.

“It worked,” said Éponine, looking over her shoulder at the smouldering charcoal bowls.

“I don’t care, I’m not finished with you yet,” Cosette declared and pushed Éponine onto her back and began to press her hot little mouth onto random patches of Éponine’s sweaty skin. 

But then Jehan knocked on the door saying firmly, “I can tell the spell worked, vixens. If you want to keep fucking, do it somewhere else but here. Better yet, go out to dinner first.”

Cosette giggled, and Ép said, “Will you come to dinner with me?”

“Yes,” said Cosette, sneaking another kiss before Jehan started banging on the door again. 

They hauled their clothes back on and Cosette started sweep up the salt and Éponine went to let Jehan into their own loft. The three witches cleaned up the space together, Jehan opening all their windows to the keen wind.

They washed each other gently with washcloths by Jehan’s basin, getting the ritual oils off as best they could, then wrapped up warm for the outside weather.

“See you tomorrow,” Jehan said, actually pressing their moccasin against Éponine’s butt to kick them out.

“See you tomorrow,” Éponine said, and Cosette echoed her.

As the door closed behind them, Cosette slipped her hand into Ép’s. It was like snapping on armour and Éponine was ready to move on.

**Author's Note:**

> <3<3<3
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> *kanny is the Romani word for chicken... which, really R?
> 
> title is from Macbeth -- a witch says it after spelling some bloke impotent


End file.
